Drinking Coffee With the Avengers
by TheVelvetRose 1120
Summary: Marvel One-shots that take place within the Coffee Chronicles Universe. They will range from backstories of Avengers and OCs to missing scenes to character studies to checking up on secondary characters. If the series were DVDs, these would be the extras. Updated irregularly.
1. Chapter 1: To Care is to Remember

**A/N. Hello everyone! So this is partly to tide you over until the next installment and partly because I needed to figure out a way to make certain things as canon as possible that would be awkward to insert into a story. These one-shots will be random and take place ALL throughout the MCU in all different timelines with all different characters (and sometimes OCs). I will take requests, but nothing that will change the plots I have yet to write for my main stories.**

 **This particular one-shot is my way of making Agent Carter canon. I'll explain more at the bottom.**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own ANYTHING Marvel.**

 _October 5th, 1945_

Howard sighed and thrust all ten of his fingers into his hair, planting his elbows on the table. His forehead hovered over the desk, threatening to bump it in frustration. The desk lamp beside him was strong and even as he closed his eyes, he could see the brightness behind his eyelids and feel the heat on his forearms.

 _It's a toy!_ He told himself, sighing again and sitting up. He leaned back in his chair with slumped shoulders and picked up the device from his desk. He turned it back and forth in the light, staring at it as if blinking would mean the end of the world.

 _It's more than a toy_ , a voice said back. _It's a weapon – one that can make all of this go away._

He lodged one foot on the side of the desk and pushed, tipping the chair precariously backward. The device in his hands was small and shaped like a gun. It was also blue and light with only one switch on it: _On_ and _Off._

He plunked it on the table and snapped his chair forward, lowering his legs. He groaned and let his head hit the table with a _thunk_. _Why are choices so hard?_ He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the light and achieve total darkness. _I have to make sure Tania and Steve get the future they deserve,_ he thought. _I can't alter their timeline. They have to get together and they have to_ stay _together. But the only way to make sure that happens… is to remove myself as a variable. And Peggy._ He cringed and buried his head in his arms. _Peggy would kill me if she found out._

 _But she won't find out, will she? Not if you erase her memory._

He groaned again, guilt gnawing at him. _She won't tell anyone. She'll act like normal._

 _How can she grieve for someone she knows is alive and happy? She'll mess everything up._

 _No she won't! I can't take her memory away from her. I can't play God. Not anymore._ He shoved the device away from him violently. It careened off the table and clattered to the floor, unharmed. _I've had enough of messing with people's minds. This thing needs to be destroyed._

 _Not before you erase her memory, surely?_

He dug his nails into his scalp and tugged at his hair. _I'll erase hers and then I'll erase my own and I won't remember being so manipulative. I can't keep going around shooting people with a memory eraser every time I slip up. It's happened too many times and I've hit Maria with it so often that I'm afraid I've erased more than a few minutes. What if it has long-lasting effects? What if it doesn't?_

 _What if you're screwed?_

Howard shoved his chair back, scraping it against the floor. He bent down and swiped the device from the ground, clutching it tightly. "It's the only way," he said quietly, staring at it once again. "Peggy won't even have to forgive me because… she won't remember." Neither would he. "This… this is for the best." There were two things you never messed with: time travel and people's minds. And, you know, alternate realities, parallel dimensions, aliens, feelings, etc. But mostly time travel and people's minds, both of which Howard had royally fucked up. Building a time machine – HA! What had he been _thinking_?

"Jarvis!" He called out without looking away from the evil invention in his hand.

Moments later, he heard footsteps and then the door was opening. "Yes, Sir?"

Howard turned to face his butler. "I need you to do something for me and you can't know anything about it. I'm serious. No questions, no qualms, nothing. It's really important. Like, the future rests in your hands kind of important."

Jarvis looked hesitant and kind of afraid, but he nodded. Howard really didn't deserve this man's trust and unwavering faith and loyalty. But while he had it, he was going to use it. Howard handed Jarvis the device. "I need you to shoot someone with this."

Jarvis' eyes widened. "But Sir-!"

"No buts!" Howard barked sharply, cutting him off. The light of the lamp behind him only made the purple bags under his eyes more prominent. He had been thinking about this a lot – too much, if you asked him (or Maria, who'd broken up with him the day before).

"Sir, you're not thinking straight. Your heart's just been broken-"

"I'm serious, Jarvis! This isn't a real gun. Look. No bullets. It's a memory eraser. I need you to find Peggy Carter and shoot her with it. You switch it to _On_ and pull the trigger and then you get the _hell_ outta dodge. Well, not really. You come home. But you know what I mean. Then you're gonna shoot me."

"Howard-!" Jarvis was spluttering, fumbling for words.

"Don't question it!" Howard spat back. "This won't hurt her and it won't hurt me! Not in the slightest. Though it might… knock us out. Maybe. Now look. Carter's a tough dame – toughest one I ever laid eyes on. You gotta be real sneaky about this or she'll catch you. It's gotta be quick. Try and get her while she's walking. Even if she spots you, if you shoot her, you're golden."

Jarvis opened and closed his mouth furiously, but no sound came out.

"Like I said, once that's done, you come home and you shoot me. Promise me you'll do that, Jarvis. Promise me!"

"… I… I promise, Sir. But-!"

"Good." Howard patted his arm. "I won't remember this conversation later, so… thanks, buddy. Means a lot." He swept from the room.

Jarvis stared after him then at the device in his hands. "What… have I just agreed to?"

* * *

Later the next day, Howard was sitting in the expansive living room, twitching like a madman. His knee bounced up and down rapidly and his hands were shaking so badly that the mug of coffee he was trying to drink was sloshing all over the carpet. Jarvis wasn't going to be happy about that.

The front door opened and Howard shot up like a rocket. He strode over to Jarvis, who pulled off his hat and hung it on the rack. "Is it done?" Howard asked in lieu of a greeting.

Jarvis looked pale and ashen, but he nodded, brandishing the device. He held it while it was wrapped in a red, silk handkerchief, obviously afraid his fingerprints would be on it. "She caught me right before I was about to, but I managed." He pursed his lips, looking rather angry. It wasn't an expression Howard was used to seeing on him. "Howard, what did you just have me do?"

"I can't explain," Howard said, grabbing Jarvis' wrist and leading him into the living room. "There's one more thing I need you to do. After you've shot me, I need you to destroy that thing. I need you to make _sure_ that it's ruined and can never be used ever again. Then everything will go back to normal, Jarvis, I swear. I've already set the gun to make Pegs and I forget exactly what we need to."

"Should I shoot myself as well, Sir?" Jarvis asked, half-sarcastically. His eyes wondered if Howard would really want him to and while Howard knew it was a very valid fear considering how often he'd used it on others, he still felt hurt that Jarvis even had to ask.

"No," he answered. Soon all this pain would be gone. "No, I've- I've tampered with enough minds. Keep your memories, Jarvis. You don't know enough to change anything."

"Sir, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Just do it!" He barked.

There was a flash of blue light and then Howard passed out on the floor. It was the best sleep he'd had in weeks. Not that he remembered why.

 **A/N. More explanation: When Peggy gets older and starts getting Alzheimer's, she starts to remember some of what Howard erased. That's how she remembers Tania when she appears in Sharing Coffee With Captain Rogers. This also takes place several months before the events of Agent Carter Season 01 and lets all of that occur without interference from the changes I made with Having Coffee With Steve Rogers.**

 **Stay tuned for more! Don't know when I'll update, but I probably will at some point :)**


	2. 2: A Single Flame in a World on Fire

**A/N. Greetings to my lovely readers! I meant for this to be a short drabble and it turned into a giant one-shot. I hope you like it. I'm fleshing out a bit of backstory for my OC Viola (you remember her, right?) and connecting the MCU in ways the actual MCU isn't doing xP Someone requested that I list the fandoms explored in each one-shot so here goes.**

 **Daredevil**

 **No spoilers, but if you haven't watched the show, you might not get a few things mentioned in here. It takes place pre-season one. I also expect to start posting the next installment sometime this month, but no promises. Until then, enjoy some handsome Matt Murdock.**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own Daredevil.**

 _November_ 7th _2006_

The floor was jumping. She could feel it bouncing and pounding in time with the music blaring from giant speakers haphazardly shoved in every corner of the house. It was hard to walk when your shoes kept vibrating with every step you took, not to mention that any and all floor space was snatched up as soon as a spot became available. Heels, sneakers, Converse, runners, Uggs, (she even saw some Crocs in there somewhere) stomped up and down, knees popping in and out of everywhere and jabbing her calves from all sides.

Viola kept a tight hold of her friend's arm and kept her head down, stumbling over feet she wasn't even sure were hers. Elbows and wandering hands and perfumes and colognes and B.O. and sweat and alcohol and disco balls and shouts and darkness and colours and movement and lyrics and thoughts swimming back and forth inside her mind, crashing and dancing like waves on the shore.

"Come on!" Gwen shouted at her.

"Yeah!" Viola thought she shouted back as she let herself be pulled through the throng of students trying to forget about mid-terms next week.

"I saw this cute guy and- he went this way!" Gwen giggled, still tugging insistently forward in a kind of zig zag.

They entered what was undoubtedly a kitchen, which was just as crowded, and then danced through to the other side where they ended up in a living room. A girl was doing a strip tease on the coffee table. A guy was licking whip cream off another guy over by the TV while a bunch of other guys chanted and cheered.

Gwen very suddenly came to a halt and Viola crashed into her. "Whoops," she laughed, untangling herself from her friend. "My bad."

Gwen seemed not to have heard her. "There he is!"

Viola followed her gaze and spotted several men holding drinks talking in a semi-circle. It was like an invitation to close that circle. Without a word to each other, they made their way over and took the empty spots, grinning at the strangers.

"Hey fellas!" Viola greeted with a cheery wave.

They all grinned back at the two of them. "Hey gals!" One of them yelled back. "What program are you in?"

"We're not from here!" Gwen responded, one hand at her throat as she screamed over the music. She had been screaming practically all evening.

The boy who'd spoken raised an eyebrow. "Where you from then?" He asked, swaying slightly.

"We're from NYU," Viola replied. "Not too far from here."

There was a chorus of understanding from the boys. New York University was only about a half hour from Columbia. "What are you doin' round these parts?" Asked a drunk man who slung his arm around Viola's shoulders and sloshed his drink on the floor a little.

Viola winked at him. "Looking for fresh meat."

The circle laughed.

Gwen decided that that was the moment to make her move. She strode forward and grabbed one man by his tie. "You look like my kind of meat," she said seductively. "Mind taking me out for dinner?"

Viola guffawed. That might be the worst pick up line she had ever heard. It seemed to have worked though. The man that Gwen had chosen had long hair (dirty blonde? It was hard to tell in this lighting) and was slightly taller than Gwen was (which wasn't saying much). He was kind of chubby, but he had a face that glowed with happiness and sincerity and had "trust me" vibes practically radiating from him. He seemed like a safe choice for a night like tonight.

He looked over and winked at the guy who had been standing next to him. "I just winked at you, man! I'm sleeping with a hot tamale tonight!" The friend smirked and waved as the long-haired one was dragged upstairs by his tie.

"If you turn her vegan, I'll cut you!" Viola shouted after them, making several people in the near vicinity burst out laughing. She was thankful that everyone in that near vicinity was either drunk or tipsy at least. Her own tipsy ramblings would only get less funny as the night wore on.

The man who was friends with the guy Gwen took to bed still wore his smirk, but he didn't laugh. He obviously wasn't drunk enough for this party. And why was he wearing sunglasses indoors? Newsflash. They don't make you look cool. Just dorky.

The guy with his arm still around Viola leaned in and licked her ear. Okay, _ew_. No. That was just gross. She stepped back, gently removing his arm. She liked partying, but she didn't come here to hook up. She didn't have anything against it, she just… didn't. She came here to party, alone or with friends. Sure, making out with strangers or playing Seven Minutes in Heaven could be fun, but she didn't do one night stands.

Though Gwen's departure may have implied that Viola was looking for the same thing. She wasn't. She needed to make that clear. "No sex for you boys," she announced teasingly. Maybe that wasn't helping. "I'm not that kind of gal." The boy who'd licked her ear pouted but backed off.

She stayed in the circle for a while, but the circle eventually dwindled as the boys became distracted by other things (mainly girls as they giggled past) until it was just Viola and the guy with the sunglasses. He was holding an untouched cup of beer in one hand while the other was shoved deep in the pocket of his hoodie. COLUMBIA was proudly emblazoned on the front.

"How many of those have you had?" She asked, pointing at his full cup.

He didn't react for second. "You mean these?" He raised his drink a little higher before lowering it again.

She nodded.

His lips twitched before he responded. "You know I'm blind, right?"

She blinked in surprise. "What?"

He chuckled this time. "I'm blind." He gestured to his glasses with the index finger of his occupied hand. "These aren't for the sun."

Viola blushed. Oh. Now she felt stupid. "Oh, I'm-"

"You nodded, right? Before?"

She nodded again. "I mean- Yes."

He smiled. "This is my first."

"You've hardly touched it!" She exclaimed, peering over the rim into the amber liquid.

He shrugged. "I'm not really in the mood tonight. Foggy dragged me out here. I should be studying for my mid-term tomorrow. It's worth forty percent."

Viola winced. "Ouch. I thought they didn't start until next week?"

"My professor's a dick," he deadpanned.

She burst out laughing, her own voice ringing loudly in her ears. She'd only had a couple of drinks, but she felt buzzed enough to laugh at anything and everything. "Well, at least that's one less test to worry about next week."

"How optimistic of you."

She shrugged. "How optimistic of me."

His lips twitched again and he might have chuckled, but it was too loud to be able to tell. "Here." He held the drink out to her. "You can have it. I'm not really a party-"

"Animal?"

"-person."

She giggled and accepted the beer. "Thanks." She took a sip. She feared what might happen if she chugged it right here. With her luck, someone would bump into her and she'd spill it all down her front. Not that this guy would notice…

Screw it. She threw back the plastic up and chugged the beer, letting out a satisfied exhale as she left the cup on the table to her left. She didn't want to leave an unfinished drink unattended, so really she was being smart by shoving it all down her throat so that she could put it down. She'd have to drink some water soon though if she didn't want too bad of a hangover tomorrow.

"You wanna dance?" She asked him.

It was hard to see his expression behind his round glasses, but she thought he looked surprised. "Uh," he said. "Not really."

"Come on! You're already here. Can't go home and study now. Might as well have fun. And your friend's become indisposed at the moment. What else are you going to do?"

"Go home and study?" He suggested sarcastically.

Viola laughed as if he was joking. "Dance with me? Please?"

"I'm… not much of a dancer."

"So? No one's going to be looking at you. They'll be too busy grinding against each other to care." She waited a beat. "We don't have to do that. We can just dance – innocently." She waited another beat.

"Alright."

She beamed at him and took his hand. "Awesome! Okay, don't let go. If we lose each other in the crowd, then it won't really be dancing _together_ , now will it?"

He chuckled again. "I guess not."

As she pulled him into the throng of people on the makeshift dance floor, she began swaying her hips to the beat. It was fast and the lyrics were rough and the instruments sounded too techno for her liking, but it was good to dance to. She knew that he couldn't see her, but he could feel her hand moving up and down and around as she kept a tight hold of his.

At first, he wasn't moving much. He just kind of bobbed up and down and side to side. She twirled under his arm and he seemed to grow a bit more confident. His other hand groped the air for hers and she gave it to him. He led them out and then back in and then twirled her again. She couldn't stop smiling even as she bumped into someone different every few seconds. It was only his touch that she focused on and she found that she liked having his hands on her.

They danced to a song that never ended until he told her, "Okay, no more. I'm thirsty. You've forced me into getting a drink." He smirked at her and she smirked right back at him.

"You going to get a beer, finally?"

"Maybe." He paused. "Could you… lead me to the alcohol, please?"

"Of course! This way!" She led him back toward the kitchen and pulled him through the doorway. She never let go of his hand even as she opened the fridge door (shoving away a couple making out) to grab a can of beer and a bottle of water. She held the alcohol out to him. "Here you go." His other hand come up to meet hers and he took the can from her.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She finally released his hand to unscrew the cap on her bottle. She took a large swig and wiped her mouth afterward. She only just noticed how sweaty she was. Great. Oh well. She was having fun.

She watched as her dance partner threw back at least half of the beer before burping inelegantly. At least he'd aimed away from her. He smiled apologetically and she giggled once more.

"You up for more dancing?" She shouted.

He shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I've had enough dancing for tonight. It was a lot of fun."

But she didn't want to part with him. "Leaving so soon?"

"It is really stuffy in here," he confessed. "I would give anything for some fresh air right about now. It's so hard to tell anything apart in places like these."

Considering he was blind, she could very well understand his lack of comfort in such a sensory overload location. "Do you live on campus?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. I share a duplex with Foggy just down the street. We walked here."

"Want some company?"

She could tell that he definitely seemed surprised this time. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure."

Had that been overstepping things? Crap. "You don't have to- I mean, I didn't mean to- to insinuate anything-"

"No, no. It's fine," he assured. "I don't want to say good-bye yet either."

Her awkwardness melted away and she smiled. "May I walk you home then?"

He snorted. "Yes, you may. I would've needed you to lead me to the door anyway."

She took his hand again and tugged him through the maze of a house all the way to the front door. Somewhere along the way, someone had slapped her ass, but she couldn't figure out who it was so she just shrugged and carried on. She was ninety percent sure it wasn't the blind guy behind her holding a beer in one hand and her own hand in the other.

When they finally burst out onto the front porch, the music was quieter (but still loud) and the number of people diminished only slightly. There were students dancing all down the driveway and the lawn, grinding against the car and rolling in the grass. The air was fresher and Viola felt like this was the first breath she'd taken in a long time.

She led her new friend down the driveway and onto the street, where the noise finally started to die away. "Where to from here? We're facing…" She thought for a moment. "East."

"Left," he replied easily. "Or north." He let go of her hand and reached into his hoodie pocket. He pulled out a small plastic stick. He stepped away from her to make sure that he didn't hit her and shook it out once. It snapped open, unfolding five times and clicking together repeatedly. It was a walking stick.

"Cool," she said, skipping around to his other side so that she could take his arm. "Lead the way." They turned and began to walk down the street in comfortable silence. "You know, I never caught your name," she said eventually, after the music had been reduced to a mere "thump-thump-thump" in the background.

"That's because I never gave it," he responded cryptically.

"Oh." Well, if he wanted to remain anonymous-

"It's Matthew. My name is Matthew. Most people call me Matt."

"Hi Matt," she greeted joyfully. "I'm Viola. It's nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but all four of ours are currently occupied."

His lips turned upward. "So they are."

They continued walking in silence, turning a corner not long after. "I see now why you aren't a party person," she blurted. "It must be kind of overwhelming in there."

His face showed no change. "Yeah."

"It's overwhelming for me too. Not in the same way, of course. But… yeah, I don't know where I was going with this." She laughed nervously.

"It's alright. You're drunk. I'll forgive you this time."

Her heart skipped a beat. This time? "So what do you do for fun?" She was honestly curious.

He hummed. "I box sometimes."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Wow, okay. That explains this." She squeezed his bicep approvingly. "Against opponents or-?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "No. Punching bags, mostly. My dad taught me the basics and I've picked up the rest myself."

"Cool, cool." That was kind of vague and her instincts were telling her that he was omitting certain things, but that wasn't exactly illegal. "Anything else?"

"Um… I like reading."

"In braille?"

"Mmhm. Audiobooks are nice too, but it depends heavily on the voice and if I like listening to it."

"What kind of voice don't you like listening to?"

"Mostly men."

She laughed, her steps faltering a little. Maybe she was past tipsy at this point. "I see. So you listen to audiobooks to get off to women's voices?"

He smirked. "Maybe. Maybe I just think they sound better."

"Do they?"

"Some of them. Your voice is nice. You've got kind of an accent. I can't pinpoint from where."

"Not a lot of Americans can. It's Québecois."

"It's… what?"

"Canadian French."

"Oh. Are you not American, then?"

"No, I am. I've got dual citizenship. I was born in Québec, but I grew up in Brooklyn."

"And you speak French?"

"Fluently."

"Is it your first language?"

"Well, my dad kind of raised me with both English and French. I know both languages pretty equally, though it's harder to find people who speak French here than it would be in Canada – at least near the Québec border."

"Can I hear it?"

"My French?"

"Yeah. Listening to other languages is also something I like to do. It's… interesting."

"Interesting, huh? Tu penses que je suis intéressant?" A confused pause. "Tu n'as aucune idée de quoi je parle, correct?" When he didn't answer, she took that as a yes. "Do you like my French?"

"Si," he replied. "Es muy atractivo."

"Was that Spanish?" She asked, impressed.

"Si," he repeated.

"I think I know enough etymology to know what you said."

He grinned cheekily.

They made another turn, this time to the left.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?" Matt wondered.

"Well, I'm sort of an adrenaline junkie," she confessed. "My friends call me a daredevil because I like rock climbing, sky diving, bungee jumping, those sorts of things."

His eyebrows rose high above the rims of his glasses. "You certainly live life to the fullest."

She chuckled. "That's one way of putting it. I've just always gotten a thrill from taking risks. Nothing too big like playing Russian roulette or something, but… you know… zip-lining and surfing and the like. Granted that I haven't done a good majority of those things-"

Matt erupted into a small laughing fit, messing up the rhythm of his tapping cane. She pretended to dump her water bottle on him, shaking it upside down above his head. He heard the swishing water and ducked instinctively. It was her turn to laugh and she unscrewed the cap with her arm still threaded with his before taking another swig.

"As I was _saying_ , I haven't done a lot of those things, but of those that I _have_ done… Let's just say I know for a fact that I like things that get my heart going."

"Do you like horror movies?"

"Yup. The best part about those though is making fun of the protagonists and how stupid they are. I mean, come on. Don't go in the cellar! How hard is that to understand?"

He snorted next to her before taking a sip of his beer, jostling her arm as he did so. "Pretty hard for fictional characters, apparently."

"Do you like-? Oh."

"Yeah. I don't really see movies."

"I'm-" She stopped herself. He probably wouldn't want her sympathy. "Do you like horror novels?"

"Only when read by men with raspy voices."

She hiccoughed into laughter. "With the funny narrator voices?"

"And the awful sound effects."

"Really?"

"Yup. Squelch. Squelch. Dead."

Viola couldn't control her giggles. "Does it… really… sound like that?"

"Yeah. I'll- You should listen to one sometime."

She nodded, regaining her self-control. "Alright. I will."

He stopped walking abruptly and she came to a halt beside him. "Is this 5167?" He asked.

She looked around him and squinted at the address pinned next to the front door and above the mailbox. "Yup. 5167. I'm assuming this is you?"

"Yup," he mimicked, sliding his arm out of hers.

An awkward silence ensued. She liked talking to Matt. She didn't want to go back to the party just yet, nor did she want to go home. She wanted to stay and talk to him all night long.

As if reading her mind, Matt cleared his throat and shifted hesitantly on his feet. "Did you… want to come in? It's one of those rare times when none of my housemates are home and the place is quiet. Messy, because we weren't expecting company, but quiet."

Her heart skipped a beat again. "A-alright. If you try and take advantage of me though, I'm warning you that I have a black belt."

He raised both hands in a placating gesture while at the same time looking rather impressed. "Good to know." He led the way up the drive to the front door and fumbled in his pocket for his keys. He eventually pulled them out and felt along the ridges for the right one. He found it and inserted it into the lock. It appeared to be sticky. He jiggled it a few times before finally managing to shove the door open. Viola followed him into the duplex, looking around in the darkness.

"Nice place," she commented as she slipped off her flats. He wasn't kidding about it being messy. She tucked her shoes away neatly on a mat by the door. "Beats my crappy apartment uptown. I share it with the girl who used to be my babysitter."

"Really?" He turned to face her and began walking backward, taking another sip of his beer.

She followed him without question. "Really. She's only ten years older than me." She paused. "That's weird, right? Everyone tells me so."

He shook his head. "It's not weird." A beat. "Well, okay it's a bit weird. But I don't think you're weird."

She held a hand to her chest in mock pleasure. "Why thank you. I'm so pleased."

He laughed and turned into his kitchen, where he pulled his hoodie up over his head and tossed it on the back of a chair. "Want anything? I'm not sure we have much that's not disgusting or rotten." He opened the fridge anyway and began rooting through it, feeling his way around for food that could be serviceable to a guest.

"I could go for a coffee," she answered, hopping up to sit on the island counter and crossing her legs. She didn't want to be drunk anymore. She wanted to remember this night.

"Alright." He closed the fridge door and began searching the cupboard next to it, standing on his toes to reach the highest shelf. She stared at the pale skin of his lower back for a couple of seconds before he came down with a giant jar of coffee beans.

"That looks awfully breakable," she remarked off-handedly.

He quirked a small smile at her. "We men aren't total pigs, you know. We've managed to keep this thing for four years."

"Of course."

She watched as he began making the coffee, observing the way he stepped around the room and how his every movement seemed calculated. He must have known the entire house, the entire block by heart to avoid hitting anything. He had to have memorized every detail of where everything was. With roommates who could shift stuff around at any time they wanted, that had to be challenging.

He moved with ease and confidence and he even turned his head sometimes as if to look at something, though he never did. She wondered. "Hey, Matt?"

His head turned halfway as if to see her out of the corner of his eye. "Hm?" Or maybe it was just to turn his ear towards her. There went that experiment.

"What kind of coffee is that?"

He huffed out a laugh. "The cheapest kind you can possibly get."

Nodding, she said, "That's the kind I get too."

"Good. Then you probably won't throw up when you try it."

"And you weren't going to warn me?"

"I wanted to hear your reaction."

There was a lull in the conversation as he turned the coffee machine on. It whirled and crushed and chewed loudly, preventing anything from being said. Viola really didn't want to scream over it. Her throat kind of hurt from doing just that all night. She took another drink from her water bottle, nearly depleting it. The noise died away and Matt turned around with two mugs of coffee in his hand. He held one out to her – well, where she would be if she were standing on the floor.

She accepted it with a thank you, their fingertips brushing each other as she grasped the ceramic mug. She blew on her new drink, not quite ready to taste it yet.

Matt pulled out a chair to her right, but didn't sit down in it like she'd anticipated. Instead, he stepped onto it and sat on the island next to her, keeping his feet on the chair like a footstool.

"How did you know I was up here?"

"Your voice mysteriously came from a higher point. So unless you grew taller than me in the short time we've known each other…"

She chortled as he took a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk. "What's your last name?"

His eyebrows pushed together a little. Viola wanted to call it endearing. "Why do you want to know?" His tone sounded more teasing than defensive, which was good.

She shrugged, careful not to spill her coffee in her lap. "Just looking for a topic of conversation. Mine's Stevenson. Viola Stevenson. I like my coffee stirred, not shaken."

He laughed again, his face breaking into a smile. She'd always loved the feeling of making someone smile. "The name's Matt Murdock."

"Matt Murdock," she repeated. "That has a nice ring to it."

"I agree. I'm never changing it."

"You shouldn't."

"Viola Stevenson has a nice ring too."

"Really? I always thought it was just because I grew up with it that it sounded like it fit."

"That could be it. But I think it sounds nice. Trust me. I know these kinds of things." He tapped his left ear with his index finger. "Just trust me."

"I do."

Just like that, the conversation died way into awkwardness. Had that been too forward? Too weird? She'd only known him for a handful of hours. Had it been too personal? Too serious for the light tone of conversation they'd been carrying? Had it been-?

"Okay," he sighed, interrupting her panicked musings. He set his cup down on the counter with a clank. "I'm kind of getting mixed signals here."

What?

"One of the first things I hear you say is that you don't do hook-ups. You're not that kind of girl. Then you spend the whole night with me, dancing, laughing, talking. Then you offer to walk me home. You accept my offer to come in and here we are… talking again. Just to be absolutely clear… you don't want to sleep with me. Am I correct?"

Her mouth suddenly felt dry as sandpaper. She reached for her water bottle and nervously polished it off before speaking, stalling desperately for more time to think of something to say. "I…" She said finally. "I don't know, to be honest. I'm getting mixed signals from myself too."

"Oh." He turned his head to face the fridge so that she could only see the outline of his face in the darkness. "I didn't know girls could get mixed up by their own signals."

She chuckled. "They definitely can. And right now… they're kind of telling me to kiss you." His head quirked toward her in interest. "But they're also telling me not to be that type of girl."

"One night doesn't make you a slut," he told her reassuringly. "I think you can agree that we have chemistry. It's totally normal to feel attracted to each other and also normal to act on that attraction."

"How many girls have you slept with?"

He hesitated. "A few."

"The fact that you won't give me a number tells me more than any digit you could have given me," she pointed out.

"I know."

Silence reigned once again.

"Can I…?" She reached for his glasses, but stopped just in front of them. "Can I see you?"

His lips twitched. "If you let me see you."

Wha-? Oh. Oh… "Okay. Deal." She slowly pinched the metal frames of his glasses and slid them off his face, careful not to scratch his nose. She didn't look at them as she set them down next to her. Instead, she stared into his murky brown eyes. They were blank and if she had to guess, she'd say they were settled somewhere around her mouth. Except they weren't settled on anything.

Now that she could see his whole face, he seemed like a completely different person. If she had to sum it up in one word, she'd say handsome. He had soft-looking chestnut hair and a bit of stubble on his chin. He looked like a good man. Troubled, but good. She was usually pretty skilled at noticing those sorts of things.

"My turn," he whispered. He reached up slowly, carefully. She closed her eyes. The pads of his fingers grazed her eyebrow. Then both of them. They brushed delicately along her cheekbones and met at her chin. They traced her lips, sending a tingle up her spine that she had to clench the counter in order to hide. His fingers continued roaming her face, feeling every contour and plane. "Smile for me," he requested.

She obliged simply at the mere oddity of such a thing to say. He felt along her cheeks again, up to her eyes. She opened them. His lips were curved upward a bit. He seemed to be enjoying this.

"You smile with your whole face," he remarked. "It's a nice smile."

She could feel her cheeks grow a bit hot. His hands remained on her face, which made her blush even more. "Thanks."

His hands lingered, tracing along the outline of her jaw, her throat, her neck… She let him. His touch was soft and tentative – exploring. She'd never been touched like this before. She could feel her insides tightening a little. "What are you wearing?" He whispered, trying not to disturb the peaceful silence surrounding them.

She had to force herself to keep her breathing steady. "An animal print dress," she replied and exhaled at the same time.

"Anything else?"

She swallowed. "Oh, you know. The usual. Bangles. Earrings. Underwear. A fanny pack."

He huffed again, his lips smiling. "A fanny pack?"

"I wear it under my dress. It's got all my money and I.D. in there. Even my phone fits in there. I don't like carrying purses on nights like these."

"And no one can tell?"

She shook her head, her waves bouncing around and knocking into his hands. She may have sort of done that on purpose. "Nope. My dress isn't that tight."

He hummed, trailing his palms over her bare shoulders. "No… sleeves?"

"They're down here," she explained softly, reaching for one of his hands and dragging it further down her arm. They met fabric halfway down her bicep, where it hung loosely around her arm.

He hummed again. "No tights?"

She scooted closer to him, setting down her coffee and pressing up against him so that they were thigh to thigh. "You tell me."

She watched his Adams apple bob up and down as one of his hands lowered to her bare knee. He held it there, waiting.

"Go ahead," she encouraged. "One night… one night won't hurt. I wasn't exactly planning on waiting 'til marriage. And… I want you. I don't think I've ever wanted someone like this before."

He swallowed again. "Are you sure?"

She slid her arms around his neck in response and kissed his jaw. "I'm sure."

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains, shining on Viola's face. She groaned and buried herself deeper into her… surprisingly smooth pillow. That… wasn't a pillow. Her heart began to pound and she sat up immediately. Several things came into perspective at the same time.

One: she was naked.

Two: her "pillow" was actually an equally naked Matt Murdock.

Three: this wasn't her bed. It was _his_.

Four: it was _morning._

Five: she had a light hangover.

Six: these sheets were freaking _silk._

Seven: she'd just lost her virginity.

Holy _fuck._

As if awakened by her panicked thoughts, Matt shifted, rustling the sheets. "What's wrong?" He asked, keeping his eyes closed. His eyebrows suddenly drew together. "If you at all regret what we did last night-"

"No," she blurted, surprising everyone in the room. "I, uh, I mean… no. I don't… I don't regret it. It was… well… amazing."

He opened his eyes and grinned. "That good, huh?" She whacked him with a pillow as he laughed. He said nothing after that. What was she expecting? A compliment on what a fantastic lover she was? She almost snorted at the thought. It was better than she could have hoped. A cheesy smile lit her face and she blushed, ducking her head. She was tempted to say 'thank you' for some reason, but bit her tongue. That would be weird. "What time is it?" She asked, looking around for an alarm clock. She found none. She should have expected that.

He reached over to his nightstand, stretching his muscles and _damn_ she'd been lucky to sleep with this man. He grabbed his watch and felt along its face. "It's nine o'nine in the morning."

"Don't you have a mid-term today?"

"Not 'til two," he replied, setting the watch down and settling back into his pillow. He raised his arms to rest them behind his head. "You got somewhere to be?"

"Yeah. My roommate's going to want to see me ASAP. She's still trying to get over the whole used-to-be-my-babysitter thing."

"That must get annoying."

She snorted. "You have no idea. She thinks she's my mom." Viola kicked the sheets down and swung her legs over the side. Her clothes were strewn all over the floor, mixed with Matt's. "Actually, mind if I stay a bit longer? I don't really want to have to face her wrath."

He smirked at her. "Don't be afraid of the Walk of Shame. It's only shameful if you regret it."

"Which I don't." She was pretty sure that it wasn't herself she was reassuring.

"Good." He yawned and sat up as well, stretching his arms up and over his head and cracking his neck and back. He hummed in relief.

Meanwhile, Viola stood up and slid her undergarments back on. They luckily weren't affected by their antics last night. She didn't want to put her fancy dress back on, but she figured that Matt's roommates wouldn't appreciate-

Okay, scratch that. _She_ wouldn't appreciate Matt's roommates ogling her in his sweater if she walked out in only that. Besides, she thought as she turned to face him, Matt looked quite sexy in sweats and a zip-up sweater anyway. However, even though they were inside, the morning was brisk and the floor was ice beneath her feet. It was much too cold. Then again, it _was_ early November.

A girl could compromise. "Do you mind if I borrow a sweater? It's cold now that I'm not in your arms." She bat her eyelashes at him.

He snorted and grabbed the hoodie he'd worn last night, tossing it to her. It was off by a couple of inches, but she caught it easily. "Knock yourself out," he said. He tilted his head while she slid the sweater over hers, on top of her dress. "Someone else is home," he stated. Sure enough, Viola heard muffled voices, though she wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't said anything. "Do you want breakfast?" Matt asked, his legs appearing as he walked out from behind the bed. He was wearing fuzzy slippers. Cute.

"Breakfast sounds great," she answered, stretching and cracking her own neck.

The two of them made their way to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind them. Viola sat down on a bar stool at the island as Matt rifled through his fridge again. She stared at the counter, thinking about what they'd almost done on it last night (and what they _had_ done). She hid her grin even though he couldn't see it and swung her legs back and forth beneath the counter.

Matt's head reappeared and he pushed the door shut loudly. He set a carton of milk on the counter. "Looks like cereal is all we've got."

"I like cereal."

"We only have the sugary kinds. Foggy's kind of addicted."

"As long as it's not Lucky Charms. Or Froot Loops. Or Nesquik."

There was a pause. "We have Captain Crunch?"

She nodded. "I can handle that."

"Awesome." He began to search for clean bowls and utensils.

All of a sudden, a door slammed shut from a room down the hall. "Don't you fucking treat me like some piece of shit! I'm not just some hooker you can use and then throw away! I'm not… I'm not a _condom_! I'm a human being! I never want to see you again!" Angry footsteps stomped toward the kitchen. More footsteps followed.

"That was kind of the plan!" Yelled a male voice. There was a _whoosh_ and then a shattering of glass. A half-naked girl carrying a bundle of clothes burst into the room, fuming. Half her face was covered in makeup, which ran down her cheeks alongside her tears. She raged right through the room and out the front door, slamming the door shut so hard that the house shook.

An Asian face poked into the doorway the girl had come through, peering into the kitchen. "Is she gone?"

"Yes, she's gone," Matt replied, amusement and exasperation twisting together in his tone. He set three bowls onto the counter as well as three spoons. "I don't want to know."

The newcomer closed his mouth. He looked over at Viola. "Are you Matt's latest squeeze?"

Viola's face grew hot. "I am," she responded defiantly.

"Cool," said the guy. He squinted at her. "Mixed?"

Oh. This again. "Yes."

"Hmm… half white?"

"Yes."

"… half Asian?"

"Yes."

"Woot! I'm on a roll!"

Matt paused in his search for Captain Crunch to listen. "Am I missing something?"

"Yeah. Sight," the Asian man replied, taking the milk carton and drinking directly from it. "Anyway," he said when he was done, "Thai?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Egyptian?"

"That's in Africa."

"I knew that. You just look Egyptian."

"So I've been told."

"Chinese?"

She snapped her fingers. "Bingo."

"Hey! Me too! High-five!" They high-fived. "I'm Jiang."

"Viola."

"Nice to meet you, Viola. How come you aren't running for the hills?"

"Cause Matt's a perfect gentleman." She looked over at the man in question, who was still facing the cupboard. The back of his neck was tinted pink. "And we're being mature about it. We're two consenting adults who just slept together. What's the big deal?"

Jiang waved his arms around comically. "That's what I was trying to tell… uh… what's-her-face!"

Viola rolled her eyes. "We do expect some decency when we do these kinds of things, you know. Like remembering our names."

"Huh," Jiang said, grabbing one of the spoons and twirling it. "Makes sense. Hey, do you speak Mandarin? Cantonese?"

"Not even remotely. My mom was the Chinese one and she died during childbirth."

"That sucks."

Viola shrugged. "What can you do?"

"Learn Chinese?"

"What for?"

"So I can whisper dirty things in your ear and no one will know what we're talking about." He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes again as Matt finally emerged with the cereal. He felt around for the bowls and began pouring. "Tell me when to stop," he said.

"Stop," she told the both of them. "Thanks, Matt." Unperturbed by Jiang's germs, she grabbed the carton of milk and poured a generous amount into her cereal. "You better not have cooties, Jiang."

"You could find out if you kissed me."

"Shut up," she told him, mouth full of cereal. "I'm not sleeping with you."

"You slept with Matt!"

She swallowed. "That's not how it works. Matt was the exception. I don't just go around sleeping with anything that flirts with me."

"Why not?"

"I need… chemistry. Something that motivates me to give myself to you in a way that's… intensely private. I need to feel safe with you and I need to trust you to a certain extent. Matt… I don't know how, but in the few hours I've known him, I felt all of those things. I don't think I'll be doing this again any time soon."

"So what you're saying is you don't trust me? … _yet."_

She threw up her hands. "You're hopeless."

At that moment, the door creaked open and someone stumbled inside. "I'm home!" Someone whisper-shouted.

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Hi Foggy," he said at normal volume.

The long haired man who'd slept with Gwen trudged into view, scratching his head and squinting at them all. "Hey dudes and dudette. How is everybody on this fine morning?" He headed straight for the coffee machine. Viola noticed that he was still wearing his shoes – they were also on the wrong feet. She stifled her giggles by eating more cereal. "So are you two dating now?" He asked, gesturing to her and Matt.

Viola choked on her cereal and Matt froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth. "Uh, no," he answered while Jiang smacked Viola on the back. "We're not dating."

"I have never seen a girl stay for breakfast, I kid you not," Foggy insisted, pouring beans into the coffee maker (and missing half of it). "Is she your girlfriend now, Tiger?" He elbowed Matt in the ribs, who laughed nervously and set down his bowl.

"No. It was just a fling."

Viola knew this. She _knew_ this. But she'd kind of been hoping that it could turn into something more. They had crazy chemistry; he'd said so himself. She trusted him really quickly and he had been nothing but exceptionally polite and respectful towards her. She wanted to see him again. But she knew that that wasn't how these things worked and she didn't want to sound clingy.

"She looks disappointed," Foggy told Matt, who had sat down at the island across from her. "Make of that what you will." He turned on the coffee machine so that no one could converse over the roaring of the grinding. Viola blushed and stared into the depths of her cereal. She wanted to ask Matt for his number, but… would that make it seem like she'd had expectations of being his girlfriend the whole time?

She shoved the rest of her breakfast into her mouth. "Well," she announced when she had swallowed the last of it, "I'd better get going. It was nice meeting all of you." She scurried into the bedroom, face flaming as she collected her bra and fanny pack from the floor. She reached for the door and threw it open-

Matt stood there, fiddling with the zipper on his sweater anxiously. "Ignore Foggy," he said. "He just wants me to date someone for more than a few days. He thinks it's unhealthy not to have had a serious girlfriend in so long."

She nodded, sort of understanding, but really just wanting to bolt. "If I'm ignoring him, then… barring everything that he said… could I have your number?" She hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor by an online website for nothing.

Matt looked taken aback, blinking in surprise. "Uh. No."

Okay, _ouch._

"Wait, wait. That came out wrong."

"Did it?" She asked sarcastically.

"Look," he started, running a hand through his matted hair. She'd done the same thing to it last night. "I don't… relationships don't really work with me. I don't think you know what you'd get into, dating a blind man."

"I don't care-"

"I know, I know. I've heard that before. But you don't really _know_."

"So teach me."

"Viola." He went back to the zipper. "I went into this with no expectations of- strings attached, you know? It was just… a one-night stand. This doesn't mean anything."

"I know," she agreed, even though it _hurt_. "I know it doesn't- doesn't mean anything. I know that. I just… I thought maybe we could get to know each other. Go for coffee. Be… I don't know… friends. It was just a friendly question asking if we could keep in contact. We could start over. I just…" She shrugged. "I don't know. I thought… You know what? Never mind what I thought. It was stupid. I'll just go."

"Viola-"

She squeezed past him and made her way to the front entrance. _It's only shameful if you regret it_. She kept her chin up and slipped her shoes back on. She didn't regret it. She wouldn't. It had been a choice that she'd made and she wouldn't regret having an amazing time last night. She wouldn't regret asking for his number, either. It could have been something nice between the two of them. It was just sad that it wouldn't be. "Good-bye, Matt," she said, turning to him. He was watching from the hallway, looking slightly crestfallen. Maybe she was the one reading the signals wrong. "I had a nice time."

"Good-bye, Viola," he returned.

She stared at him for a moment. Then she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her. It swung shut loudly, ringing in the silent house.

* * *

"Guess you're not so much of a gentleman after all," Jiang commented as Matt returned to the kitchen. "You know she's still wearing your sweater, eh?"

Matt sighed and sat on the stool he'd previously vacated. "I know."

Foggy plopped down to Matt's left and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, man. If you didn't feel it, then you didn't feel it. Not your fault."

Matt said nothing.

The hand slipped from his shoulder. "Oh my God, you felt something."

Matt said nothing.

"Dude! Why'd you let her go?"

Matt said nothing. A hand whacked him in the arm. "Ow!"

"Matthew Murdock, what did you just let a catch like that go for, huh? What's wrong with you? She was really hot!"

Matt sighed. "I don't have time for a relationship right now."

"When will you, then? Have you been listening to anything our professors have been telling us? Lawyering is busy work! Are you just going to keep using that excuse for the rest of your life?"

Maybe, he thought. "She wasn't my type." _Lie_ , his heartbeat told him. "It was just a fling." _Lie._

Foggy was eyeing him skeptically. "Whatever you say, man." He downed the rest of his coffee.

Feeling like an asshole, Matt pushed his cereal away and returned to his room, where he stripped the sheets off his bed and replaced them with new ones. It was like she'd never been there. He collapsed onto it face down, burying his face in his pillow.

He'd felt a spark – and it scared him. Getting attached… it wasn't something he allowed himself to do. Not like that. All the girls he'd dated… it wouldn't have worked out. He just would've ended up breaking her heart. It was better this way. Lie.

He sighed and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling on fire. His night with Viola didn't mean anything. No strings attached. No commitment. It meant _nothing_.

His heart jumped.

 _Lies._


	3. Chapter 3: Porcelain Doll

**A/N. I know I've already posted this, but I figured I would move it over here because... it just makes sense that way. You don't have to read this if you've already read Porcelain Doll. But to those who haven't, here you go.**

 **Fandom: _Avengers_**

 **Summary: Between chapters 16 and 17 of Sitting at a Coffee Shop With Captain America. What if, when Tania blew up in the Avengers' faces that day after the mall, Pepper blew up right back? On the way back to her room, Tania is followed by Pepper, who is angry at being treated so horribly (among her friends as well) in the hallway.**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own the Avengers.**

When the doors opened, Tania stepped onto her floor and ran to her room. She almost rammed straight into the door when it didn't open fast enough for her but managed to stop just shy of touching her nose against it. She flew inside and could already feel the tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She sobbed once.

Books. She needed her books. They always helped to distract her from her life, her problems. Surely they would work this time. She strode out of her bedroom with a purpose – only to crash into one Pepper Potts.

"Oh I'm-" she didn't know why she hesitated, but for some reason she did. She forced herself to say it anyway. "I'm sorry."

Pepper's eyes were red-rimmed and her mascara was running but she was leveling the brunette with a glare that could move the Earth. She stepped back so that there was a good deal of distance between the two of them and placed both hands on her hips, looking up slightly at her employee.

"Miss Banks, I've overridden any orders you may have given Jarvis to come up here and tell you that you're behaviour just now was unacceptable." She was obviously referring to the fact that Tania had just blown up in front of all the Avengers.

She winced but pretended that it didn't happen. "Well _Miss Potts_ ," she started, emphasizing the formality, "the Avengers should have minded their own business." She felt defensive. Defensive was never a good thing. Defensive usually meant that you said things you didn't mean, said things you couldn't take back, or said things that hurt those you cared about. Defensive also meant that you usually couldn't stop your mouth from running off on its own without your brain's permission or filter. She could already tell that this was not going to end well.

"That does not warrant you treating us like shit!" Pepper shouted, raising her arms at the last word. She was angry, it was very easy to tell. An angry Pepper Potts was something Tony had told her should always be feared. She knew that the red head rarely cursed, but when she did, it was when she was in a foul mood.

… fuck. "Listen-"

"No! YOU listen! I will not tolerate that kind of unreasonable behaviour in my own home! Not to mention that you are mine and Tony's employee and have no right to treat us in such a way! We could fire you at a moment's notice, you know!"

Tania's fear came back in tidal waves. Would they really fire her? Would they kick her out too? She could feel the pallor of her skin getting whiter and the blood in her veins rapidly cooling. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Pepper continued, seemingly not noticing that Tania looked like she was about to have a panic attack. "What I and everyone else in that room was doing was looking out for you! We have been nothing but nice to you and this is how you repay us? By pushing us away when you need help-"

"I don't need your help!" she exploded. "I am NOT broken! I'm not some damsel in distress who needs to be saved by the super heroes, okay? I have a little bit of a dark past but that doesn't mean that I need protecting! I can take a fucking punch! Why are you all ambushing me about something that should be forgotten?"

"It can't be easily forgotten when there's a bruise the size of Texas covering your face!"

"Why would you even care?"

"Because you're my friend! You're OUR friend, Tania! And friends care about each other. They look after each other. They-"

"I'm nothing more than an employee to you! That's it! I'm just the only female around besides Natasha that you can get attached to. So don't give me that bullshit-"

"It's not FUCKING BULLSHIT. God damn it Tania! You don't understand! We ALL have darkness in our pasts somewhere. They don't hold us back most of the time but when they do, that's when the others step in and bring them back to the light. But you're not letting us!"

"I'm not letting you because you're just going to fire me for this fight anyway!"

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE SECOND? I am TRYING to tell you that you have people that care about you out there! People who WANT to protect you because you mean something to them! Especially Steve."

The mention of him brought her up short. Her heart clenched painfully and her was throbbing. Her tears were cascading down her face freely but she was too involved in this argument, too deep to back down. Her defense mechanism had her pushing the envelope until she was certain that it would burst. Bursting it would be BAD. But she couldn't stop. It was like she was watching another video of her but couldn't press pause or rewind or fast forward. She was forced to watch as the closest relationship with a woman she might have ever been able to have was possibly rushed down the drain in minutes.

"I can take care of myself," she reiterated, quieter this time in the hopes of ending this horrible "conversation". If only Pepper could see how much she cared about the Avengers back. Maybe then she'd be able to forgive her.

"We know that! If we didn't know that, we'd be sending you to a hospital to get treatment and smothering you but we're NOT. Because we KNOW you can take care of yourself. The video itself was proof but you're going about this all wrong! You are being incredibly insensitive and ungrateful and frankly I can't believe you would so something like this."

The utter disappointment in her voice broke Tania like a sledge hammer to a piggy bank. Her heart fell to pieces around her but her blood boiled. She felt _insulted_ that this person who she had become so close to had just called her insensitive and ungrateful when she was just trying to protect herself and lick her wounds in peace. How DARE she? Her nostrils flared and she clenched her fists at her sides. "I am NEITHER of those things and you KNOW it! Bruce, Tony, and Clint… they were all ANGRY. And why? Because of me?"

"Because they care about you!"

"Well they have a funny way of showing it!"

"They're showing it in their protectiveness of you! And they weren't angry at you! They were angry at the mugger who clocked you! Don't you see? The Avengers and I consider you our friend."

"Tony doesn't seem to think so."

"Tony is Tony. If you haven't learned by now that he can be a total ass then you might as well just find somewhere else to live because you certainly won't fit in here."

That hurt more than Tania could ever explain. Of course she knew how much of a dick Tony could be. She'd known that even before she'd met him. But if he couldn't even call her a friend and then apologize for saying she wasn't, then what was she to him? Just some random employee he thought had good looks? What did Pepper think of her now that they'd had this… this… this row? Had her opinion of Tania changed drastically?

"I- I- I know he… I know." That was the best she could do. She held her breath to stop the sobs from completely destroying her in front of her boss. At least, she hoped she was still her boss. Despite everything, Tania didn't want to leave. She loved her job and she loved living here at the Tower. And now she might have ruined it forever.

"Tania," Pepper said with a low but meaningful tone, "we care about you. But if you don't let us in then you will never see that. We don't see you as some porcelain doll and we know you have a past that's a secret and that you can take care of yourself. But we're still here for you. If you can't see that then… then maybe… I don't know." She ran a hand along her hair and clutched at the strands for a few moments, staring at the wall beside her in the hallway as if contemplating something. She dropped her hand and sighed heavily. "Look, I'm sorry if I came off as harsh right now but… you need to see that what you just did was uncalled for and frankly kind of mean. I'm not saying you're a bad person, but you need to think about these things before you say or do something you might regret."

Silence filled the corridor as Tania replayed those words over and over in her head. Pepper sent her a look filled with the words, "Think about it" written all over it. She turned and walked away.

Tania listened to her heels click softly on the carpet before the elevator doors closed and she walked into her library and collapsed into a broken ball of sobs.

* * *

A few minutes before, in the lounge, where all the Avengers were still sorting through their respective emotions on what just happened, Tony walked around the couch toward the coffee table. "Jarvis, bring up the video feed of Banks' floor."

"Yes, sir."

Steve's head snapped up. "Camera? Stark you can't-!"

"Shut up Spangles, this is important." The three dimensional holographic feed popped up above the table. "Besides, who can resist a good cat fight?"

 **A/N. I haven't edited it since then. Just FYI. And because I don't want to lose the reviews from this story...**

 ** _xxdreamloverxx:_** ** _Excellent story! It's just as I imagined it i love the way you made it very realistic, I could totally see Pepper saying that! Awesome one shot and I'm so glad I was the 200th reviewer! THANKS XD *clicks favorite story once again*_**

 ** _ForsakenMythr2012:_** ** _Yea I love the badass side of pepper!_**

 **Thanks, guys :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Évidement

**A/N. Hello again! I have a surprise for you: a one-shot... in FRENCH. I wanted to practice my French a few years ago and end up spitting this thing out. Forgive my lack of knowledge on french punctuation when it comes to dialogue - and French in general. I found these to be more complicated. To those of you who don't speak French, a summary of what happened will be at the bottom.**

 **Fandom: _Avengers_**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own the Avengers**

 _March 21st 2013/ Le 21 mars 2013_

Graham est assis sur une chaise dans la tour des Avengers. Il n'a rien pour s'amuser. À tous les jours, il va à l'école pour étudier comment être une architecte. S'il ne fait pas des devoirs, des projets, ou jouer des jeux vidéo, il jase sur Skype avec sa amie, Darcy Lewis.

Darcy vit à Puente Antiguo, Nouveau Mexique, loin de Graham qui vit à Manhattan avec sa sœur Tania et les Avengers. Deux mois en avant, Graham et Darcy sont rencontré à la Tour pendant la capture de Tania par HYDRA. Maintenant, les deux amis parlent à chaque jour. Ils sont inséparables excepté par distance.

Un jour, Thor se promène dans le salon du Tour avec un message pour les autres.

-Mes amis! Demain, je vais retourner à Nouveau Mexique pour visiter Jane et Erik. Mais ce n'est pas tout. Elle nous a tous invité à sa place pour les joindres en vacation!

Les autres Avengers dans le salon chuchotaient l'un à l'autre. Graham était excité. Darcy vivait avec Jane et Dr. Erik Selvig. S'il visitait Jane, il visitait Darcy. Il ne l'avait pas vue dans des mois! Mais...

-Jusqu'à...? Demande Natasha.

Le sourire de Thor commence à trembler doucement.

-Quelques semaines?

Tous les autres Avengers regardent tout; excepté Thor, qui frappe ses main une fois.

-D'accord. Je vais aller tout seul. Je vais raconter ce nouveau à Jane! Excusez-moi. Il se part dans l'ascenseur et disparaître.

Tania approche son frère et assis sur la chaise à côté de lui. Un petit sourire se forme sur sa bouche.

-T'avais l'air tellement excité, Gray.

-C'est aussi évident? Il demande en chuchote. Il était embarassé.

-Bien sûr! Tout le monde sait que tu aimes cette Darcy; même Tony sait! Tu devrais aller avec Thor visité ta future blonde.

Les joues de Graham rougirent. Il regarde le comptoir avec des yeux contemplatifs.

-Ça ne va jamais fonctionner. Il y a une distance trop grand entre nous. Et puis- Il arrête à parler. Il ne veut pas que sa sœur sait ses plans après son graduation d'Université. Il veut joindre le militaire. Mais personne sais sauf Pepper et Betty – et probablement JARVIS.

-Graham, commence Tania, tu ne sâcherais jamias si tu n'essaies jamais.

-Je ne veux pas essayer.

-Quoi? Demande-t-elle en surpris.

-Nous sommes simplement des amis. C'est tout. Il ne fonctionnerait jamais. Je dois partir pour... eh... faire mes devoirs. Bonne nuit. Il se rend débout et se part sans un autre mot.

Tania soupit.

 **A/N. Translation: Some time after the events of SCWCR, Thor asks the Avengers to accompany him to New Mexico to visit Jane, but they decide not to come. They had surprise plans for Bruce's birthday (but they don't say this out loud). Tania confronts Graham and tells him that he should go, but he tells her that it would never work between him and Darcy and he sulks off.**


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